Wicked Possible
by Hadley Sparrow
Summary: There's no place like home. Mostly KIGO with Wicked tie-ins.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This one's brief because they're all annoying. I don't own any of this. I am but a puppet master. More to come.

"Curse you, Kim Possible!" Drakken cries, frantically analyzing his command center for any way to prevent the increasingly inevitable. His hands fly over the controls, editing every dial, knob, and button within his reach. His face falls as he realizes his compromised position, and turns to run after Ron, who had already fled the foreseen the danger of staying near the console.

"You think you're all that," he huffs, taking a step toward Kim and Shego, fighting on the ground below him. As the exploding console launches him up out of the hole in the ceiling created by the falling support pillars, he screams, barely audible, "but yooou're nooooooooooooot!!!" Kim pauses when she hears her name, awe-struck at his trailing exclamation. Her opponent, not having observed the extent of the damage, seizes this opportunity to land a roundhouse kick to the side of the teenager's chest, launching her toward the explosion. As she hits on of the few pillars still standing, the sickening crack of breaking bones can be heard.

Shego stands amazed; both at herself, for being so rough, and at Kim, for not perceiving and blocking her attack. Her clenched and raised fists are forgotten, and they fall slowly to her sides as she watches. She is unable to propel herself into action as the crumpled body of her rival is enshrouded by smoke, flame, and debris that falls from the ceiling and flies from the explosion. The crash of a metal staircase crashing to the ground wakes her from her trance, and she launches blindly forward.

"Kim!" she cries, terror stricken. She coughs as the harsh cloud infiltrates her lungs, and stumbles forward, feeling her way. When she finds the hero, she shakes her by the shoulder, willing her to wake. Receiving no response whatsoever, she feels for the muted pulse of the girl, and lifts her onto her back to carry her to safety. The jostling run out of the building wakes Kim, but the pain in her back and hips screams her into submission, and she passes out. Shego feels her relax, and whispers to her, "hold on, Cupcake. We're almost home." They dodge out of the lair as it collapses around them. Shego relaxes for a moment as the cave that leads to her home comes into view, then redoubles her strength and continues running.


	2. Chapter 2

see first post for disclaimer

__

As Kimberley Ann Possible comes into her consciousness, she feels an incredible pain radiating from her head, lower back, and left hip. She whimpers, her eyes still closed, and wriggles against the soft down comforters between which she finds herself. After a few seconds she realizes that her attempts to assuage the pain are all in vain, and her eyes pop open as she struggles to breathe through the paralyzing sensation. An attendant, a few feet away, looks up from her book when she hears the labored gasps. She stands and walks to Kim, who looks up at her, confused and frightened.

"It's ok Honey," the nurse coos, inserting a syringe into a tube near the bed. Kim follows the tube with her eyes, and realizes it is taped to the back of her hand, where it continues under her skin. "I'm sorry you woke in pain," the stranger continues. "This should help. I'll go fetch the mistress." With that she exits, leaving Kim alone, still confused, and increasingly loopy.

Moments later, a light knock is heard at the door. Kim wills herself to say, "come in," but all she hears from her mouth is a low "muuuuggghhh." The door creaks open, and a blurry figure enters and approaches the bed. "Princess?" a familiar voice asks. Kim's eyes snap back open as she recognizes Shego, her arch-rival. She looks helplessly up at the villainess, who smiles warmly back at her. "How are you feeling?" the green woman asks, lifting a hand to Kim's forehead. Kim watches the hand's journey tentatively, and swallows, unsure of what to make of the contact, but Shego means no harm. The hand feels cool on her head, and the touch lessens the pressure of the pain. Kim sighs in relief, and Shego lets her hand rest in its place for a moment. Kim tries to speak again, managing a full, "ow." Shego frowns, and moves her hand to the girl's cheek before dropping it altogether.

"You're as hot as a pork bun," the visitor observes, worried. The teenager grins at the unusual analogy, her guard dropping. "At least you're still alive," Shego mumbles, more to herself than to her bed-ridden companion. She is overheard, however, and enough of the girl's strength is mustered for her to manage a small, "why?" Excited at the progress, Shego recounts, "you were healed here, by my-" she cuts herself off, and rethinks her answer. "By my family's resources." The look of questioning on the girl's face reminds her of the greater situation, and she corrects once again. "Oh, you mean why were you in danger? Because Drakken blew up another lair." Kim's face is unchanged. "Still not the question? Ok, why would you not be alive? Your last three thoracic and first lumbar vertebrae were cracked when mumble mumblemumblemumble..." Kim squints at her, not sure if she had had a sudden lapse in hearing or if Shego had actually trailed off. When the latter proved true, the older woman sighed and restated, "When I kicked you into a cement column."

Kim looks shocked, and moves away from Shego, but the older woman drops her head, and apologizes, "I didn't know you weren't going to block my strike. I feel horrible. I never meant to hurt you." To her surprise, Kim lifts a hand to her chin and raises her face to look into her eyes. As their gazes meet, Shego is silenced, awaiting a response that would indicate anger, or pain, or betrayal.

"Where am I?" Kim asks, startling Shego both with the clear speech and the left field question. She stumbles on the answer, and what sounds like "kamoko" spills out of her mouth. Kim looks perplexed, and Shego tries again.

"You're in the castle of Kiamo Ko, where I've lived with my mother since I was two." She pulls her head back out of the girl's hand, breaking eye contact. "You were never supposed to be here, but an exception was made when my mom saw the state you were in." Kim watches her play with the blankets. "She doesn't really like it when people are over here. She doesn't like people to know where we live." Kim watches her play with her IV. "She's always been kind of secretive about stuff like this, but she really couldn't turn away a person in need. Or an anything in need for that matter." Kim watches her play with the blankets. "Mom's always had a soft spot for helpless creatures. She doesn't like unnecessary suffering. Or necessary suffering, really..."

"Shego, you're babbling," Kim interrupts. The older woman looks back up at the injured girl, who asks, "I meant why here? That's what I was trying to ask before." The brunette shrugs her shoulders, turning her attention to her hands.

"I knew you'd be safe here." She states simply, surprising the younger girl with her compassion. "At least until you're healed. Then you'll probably want to make tracks."

This last statement jogs Kim's memory, and she attempts to sit up, causing a sharp stab of pain throughout her spine. She takes an equally sharp breath, and closes her eyes, holding back a whimper. Shego raises an eyebrow at her, and reaches for the tubing. "Well, that was stupid, Princess," she mocks, pushing the plunger of another syringe into the IV. "I know the drugs make things better, but that doesn't mean you're not still broken. Plus, you're bound to have scores of other injuries we just haven't discovered yet." Kim opens one eye and looks sideways at Shego.

"Drugs?" she asks, "What sort of drugs are you giving me?" Then, more alarmed, "you're drugging me?"

The woman moves for the door, knowing the girl will not attempt to follow. If there's one thing to be said about Kim Possible, it is that she is clever. It never takes her more than once to learn her lesson, especially if that lesson involves pain. This time is different, though. This time she is determined. She attempts another lift, this time crying out pathetically as the pain hits her. "SHEGO!" she shouts, desperation tinging the word like oil. Shego is once again at her side, cradling her head in one arm, and holding her hand with the other.

"Pumpkin, stop it, you're going to twist your back and dislocate all your new vertebrae!" she replies, not thinking about how much she has revealed until the words are already out, and she cannot get them to go back in no matter how she tries. So she doesn't try. She helps Kim lay back once more. "The drugs are just painkillers," she informs, "and you need to stop moving. Your back needs to heal, and you need to just let it."

Kim wipes tears of pain from her eyes, and looks up at her rival. "What is really going on here, Shego?" she asks, suddenly suspicious. "Is this one of Drakken's stupid plans? Am I a hostage? Where is my kimmunicator?" Shego doesn't answer, but points to the bedside table, where the device has been the entire time. The girl calms down when she sees this display of good faith.

There is another knock at the door, which Shego opens. Another woman comes in, and Kim is shocked to see that this woman looks much like her rival, from her wild long black hair to her strong pointed jawline to her dark clothing, even down to her shockingly beautiful verdigris. While Shego's green is the pale green of pistachios, however, this other woman is colored with the strong, vibrant green of a fern, or a willow. Her eyes, while the same almond shape as the young thief's, are a distinctive shade of deep mahogany that seem to read a person's very soul with their gaze.

"How is the patient?" the newcomer asks, walking toward Kim. Her voice is deep and rich like a cello, but also has a sweet, lush quality to it that reminds the listener of molasses. When the girl is too dumbstruck to answer, Shego steps in.

"She's healing nicely, but is getting impatient, and doesn't seem to realize the gravity of the situation." She pauses, before continuing in an exasperated tone, "she thinks she's captive."

The older woman laughs, and raises her eyebrows at Kim. "Captive?" She puts a hand to her forehead, and turns to look at Shego. "Captive?" she asks again, incredulous. Shego merely shrugs, and rolls her eyes, shirking any and all responsibility for the offense with feigned disinterest. The woman looks back at Kim, and asks once more, "captive?" The word starts to lose its meaning, and Kim grins as the woman starts an almost comical riposte.

"Captive! I can't believe it. I've never held a captive in my life! Why would you even think I would hold captives? It's the green skin, isn't it?" She turns to Shego. "Do you hold captives? Is that what this is about? Have you been tarnishing my good name with your ridiculous world-conquering antics?" Shego looks shocked, and retaliates.

"Woah there, Kermit," she growls, "I don't take hostages! Then I'd have to deal with keeping people in, and as you may have noticed, I'm much more interested in keeping people OUT. And what makes you think I've ever even mentioned you? I don't run around doing things 'in the name of mommee' like in your delusions. I've never told a soul about you. Not even my so-called 'brothers.'" She makes air quotes around the word to emphasize her disgust. "I didn't even want to bring you Kimmie--"

Shego is cut off as the verdant other turns back to Kim. "So you're not being held here, and you're free to go at any time. I implore you," she makes a sweeping motion with her arm toward the door, "go at any time. Whenever you feel up to it, you're entirely welcome to leave," she puts up a finger to silence Shego, who is huffing behind her, "though, as I'm sure my darling daughter will tell you, you're also very much welcome to stay as long as you like." Shego crosses her arms, and pretends once again to be otherwise occupied. "You're no one's captive, but until your bones grow back you might want to rethink your exit strategy."

By this time the teen heroine is almost too groggy to understand the words being spoken to her, but after what seems like eternal contemplation she asks, "gr-grow back?"

The woman grins, and turns back to Shego. "You weren't kidding, she is sharp. How dopey did you say she was?"

"Nanny gave her a hit when she woke up, and I had to give her another when she tried to attack me," she growls at Kim, who ignores the lie in favor of watching hallucinatory butterflies. "So I'm guessing about half a gram of dopey."

The woman lets out a low whistle, then turns back to Kim, brushing the hair from her forehead. "I'm guessing she's not feeling any pain, then."

"I'd be surprised if she could feel anything at all," Shego mumbles back.

Kim looks at the two of them, her eyes shifting back and forth between them. She gasps, and exclaims, "two Shegos!" languidly returning the caress of the woman at her bedside.

"Shego?" the older woman asks, removing the girl's hand from her face and placing it back on the bed. The name falls off her tongue unrecognized, and she looks at the villainess, who shrugs, miming innocence. "No, I'm Elphaba," the woman responds, "and this is--"

"So _not_ the time!" Shego shouts over her, moving quickly to escort her from the room. "I'm sure Kitten has had plenty of answers for now, and is gonna pass out at any moment." Elphaba eyes her suspiciously, but consents to being ushered out. "Plus, haven't you said enough already? Didn't you always tell me our privacy was our freedom? What happened to that, Mom?"

"Elle-fah-buh," Kim drawls, losing it. Elphaba nods, and pauses in the doorway.

"Make sure she sleeps," she instructs, "and I think she's had enough morphine for today. She's not really a danger, so there's no need for you to keep her this high. I'll be back to check on her around dusk, and I want her to be able to tell me what she remembers."

Shego nods her understanding. She had never intended for Kim to reach this state, so she would have no trouble preventing this from recurring. As the door closes she looks back to her injured rival, who is making lethargic wave-like patterns in the air with her hands. "Oh, Goober," she sighs wistfully.


	3. Chapter 3

See first post for disclaimer.

____

Shego sits on her bed, a bowl of grapes resting on her lap as she flips languidly through a scholarly journal about Eastern health practices, enjoying an article on the benefits of meditation. A behemoth black Cat rests peacefully at her feet, and she scratches behind his ear with her foot. He purrs lightly as he naps, and lets out a yawn. The fan overhead moves slowly, relying on the forceful push of large wicker blades to compensate for the lack of velocity. The cool air is drawn in an open window, and washes over the bed, the scent of nearby maple trees and cherry blossoms providing a fresh, energetic atmosphere.

The Cat's eyes blink open to shine bright gold, and he stretches his left forepaw, catching her calf in his claws and flexing powerfully. She tenses momentarily, but percieves no great threat, and relaxes back into her reading, absentmindedly tossing a grape in his direction. He flinches as it hits him, then chases it toward his mouth with a paw, careful to give it a sniff before skewering it on a fang, and chews if with little interest. His head sinks onto her foot, and his eyes ease closed. Individually, the girl and the Cat seem to be in a conflict of energy, but together they are the picture of relaxation.

Shego lowers her journal, casting a worried glance at the rapidly fading light that streams through her window. She lifts the Cat's five-pound head off her foot, and stretches it, making a big show of the attempt to reinstate feeling and bloodflow. He huffs, and returns to his nap. She walks to the window, and stands before it, eyes closed and hands up, palms facing toward her. She separates them slowly, and the image on the glass is altered slightly. What was once an expanse of darkness, accentuated by the odd mountaintop has now lit up with colored sparks, each of which indicate something different: red sparks represent conflict in the hills seen through the window; most of these are clustered and flickering violently, indicating hard times and battle not far off. Orange sparks, calmer and stronger, show lookout postings that crown the horizon. Blues indicate comrades, waiting patiently for the chance to make a difference, while a single green dot, strong and bright, is moving quickly to connect the orange dots, extinguishing each in turn, and leaving blues.

As she surveys the groups of blues, Shego becomes unsettled. Something about the layout makes her nervous, and she scans it hastily. Six increasingly agitated breaths reveal that there--in the corner--a small group of blues, separated from the force, wanders unsuspecting toward a wall of red. She returns to the bed, an errant hand scattering the lights like so much dust, and gathers a few things, addressing the Cat directly as she rushes about.

"Take care of her, will you?" Cloak, boots, utility belt. "I don't want her waking up alone." Gloves, staff, door. The Cat bolts from the bed through the door while it is open, then trots off up the hall. He sits a few doors down, and watches the woman's swift retreat. As she flees down a spiral stair, he turns to the door behind him, yawning. There's no reason for him to get worked up, he is not in any danger. He enjoys this fact, and wonders at the strange enthusiasm the women of the castle seem to have about launching themselves into harm's way. Surely it must be a human thing. No animal would voluntarily endanger himself for another. But then, he was no animal. Being an Animal allowed him just enough respect to form an opinion about such things, but just enough independence to not have to care so much.

Stretching up, he scratches the wood a bit, then hooks the latch in a claw and drags it down, levering it open, and pushes the heavy door with his head just enough to pass through before its weight swings it shut again. He pauses as his eyes adjust to the significantly lowered light, but soon finds himself enchanted by the smell of strawberries. Unable to resist kneading the ground a few times, he purrs to himself, and inhales again to determine the source of the wonderful fragrance. The Cat approaches the bed at the far side of the room gingerly, arching his back to stretch his legs.

He leaps to his new nap-spot and turns a circle, establishing his turf, then sprawls out against the leg of the bed's other occupant, creating as much contact between them as possible. Though his head rests at the young woman's knee, his tail finds its way to her shoulder, tucking itself safely beneath her. Though unconscious, the woman curls to meet his warmth and he purrs, and starts to knead her calf.

_

As the last rays of the sun's natural light fade into the cooled but charged stillness of night, the forest is hushed to the whisper of crickets and owls, with a stream babbling constantly behind the sounds. The two men in the tower sip fresh mugs of coffee, stretching their muscles to prepare for the trials of the graveyard shift. They sit silenced by the rush of the trees, swayed by the unseen force of a wind current. One inhales deeply and sighs, and they close their eyes to feel the breeze. It caresses their faces so lightly they could almost swear it never happened. In the next instant it has become still, silencing the trees and leaving an eerie overtone to the stillness. As they become uncomfortable with the silence they open their eyes, both realizing with sudden force that they are no longer alone. A woman stands on the railing of the tower, dressed as dark as the night. The wide brim of her dark hat covers her face, leaving the focus on the broomstick she clutches with her left hand. She lifts it to hop down to the floor of the stilted office, approaching the more visibly disturbed of the two guards. As she nears him she lifts her head, revealing her face, which stares him down. His eyes flick between her intense brown eyes and her unusual olive pallor. When he settles at last on her eyes, she grins.

"Boo."

He jumps from his chair, spilling coffee everywhere, but she has him by the collar, and is lifting him off the ground. The other guard is stunned. Basic training never briefed them on this. He manages to slip unnoticed under his desk, and cowers there, moving the chair to provide him some cover. From his new hole he watches the witch dangle his partner over the edge of the tower, bargaining with terror for information. Then another cloaked figure is blocking his view, her boots silent on the floor. From the darkness he can only hear the conversation between the two.

"Mother," the newcomer calls, clearly annoyed. The response is not instant, but it is entertained.

"I thought you'd never have the stomach for this?"

"I don't." Shame bleeds from the words, but a fumbled urgency makes her continue. "You need to stop. We need to go. This isn't helping."

"Well, I beg to differ," the older one starts. "I've learned a lot tonight. I've even almost discovered--"

"It doesn't matter!" Silence again, followed by a gentle whisper. "Brrr was attacked by poachers. He was too far from the group. I was barely able to get to him in time. He needs help. Your kind of help."

The response was icy. "That's why you were supposed to be watching over the Animals. To protect them while they protect you." A pause, then, "what were you doing instead?"

A heavy sigh pierced the silence. "I was thinking. About Kim." This doesn't seem to be enough.

"Why would you assume that you can afford to be contemplating that girl at a time like this? When did you suddenly develop this incapacity for responsibility? This isn't like you."

The words are met with pure frustration. "And how do you even know that, huh? You don't ask questions, you just give commands. I'm just another Animal to you. Something for you to try to salvage. A collector's item." This figure paces. "You don't really know me."

"Don't know you?" comes the indignant scoff. "Young lady, I'm your mother, I know you better than you know yourself! I know that you've always put family first, and have never backed down from defending us. You've always been headstrong, and have always had a warm heart, but before Them comes Us. Why does Her being her change that?" The pronoun is spat out like ipecac. Then lower, "Why did you even bring her here? I can't be held responsible for the safety of your love life."

Stunned by the grandiose statements, the young one stops, a bright emerald green light flaring for an instant. She can't seem to find words.

After a silence, a decision is made. "She goes back when she's healed. She's not keeping her memory." The elder's dark, serious tone halts all possible argument.

In the next instant, time has resumed, and only the original attacker and the man under the desk remain. He closes his eyes, mumbling prayer to the Wizard. When he opens them, she is at his side, grinning maniacally.

"Hi." It is the last thing he ever hears.


End file.
